


Promised Land: Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Form A Polyamorous Pansexual Anarchist Farm Commune

by MythandExile



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Agrarian Fantasy, Anxiety, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Depression, Deviation From Canon, F/F, F/M, Farm Commune, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Romance, There Might Be A Cult In Town?, Vague Political Theory References, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28672527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythandExile/pseuds/MythandExile
Summary: David moves to Stardew Valley and tries to make a life there.
Relationships: Abigail/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Alex/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Haley/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Haley/Penny (Stardew Valley), Haley/Shane (Stardew Valley), Leah/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Penny/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Penny/Shane (Stardew Valley), Shane/Male Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time publicly sharing any of my written works, so I'm not super familiar with this website's system. Are my tags only supposed to show what has been written so far or are they aspirational? Whatever, I'll figure it out. This writing is pure escapist fantasy, and will probably be updated whenever I need a good dose of that sweet sweet escapism. There is probably going to be sex in here eventually, so I marked it as explicit. I also might throw in some weird cult related curveballs later on, who knows? Certainly not me. I hope you enjoyed that sports reference, it will almost assuredly be the last.

I press my cheek to the vibrating window as the bus pulls into a dark tunnel. ‘What am I doing’ I repeat in my head for the hundredth time. The nausea I’ve been fighting this whole trip rears up again, and I take several slow, deliberate breaths, pushing it back. About two weeks ago, I got a letter from the executor of my estranged grandfather’s estate, informing me that he had left me his farm in Stardew Valley. Reading the letter had been a shock (I’m now a landowner? Is that bad praxis?), but the intensity of the reaction it provoked in me was the bigger surprise. I always generally knew that I was unhappy, but presented with the opportunity to escape, it dawned on me how much I hated every aspect of my life. I hated my job, I hated Joja, I really hated Tim, the cowboy hat guy two cubicles down who smacked his lips whenever he made a sale. I hated my tiny apartment, I hated being too exhausted every day to do anything after work but drink and hate-watch terrible TV, and I hated how lonely I always felt. Up until that point I had been able to lie to myself, to say that that was all fine for now. It wasn’t that bad, was it? In a moment I was overcome with the cottage core agrarian fantasy I thought I left behind in college, and I saw my way out. But that was a week ago, and now that I am actually on the bus to Stardew Valley, any confidence I might have had has been replaced with anxiety. I abandoned my life, and I don’t think I could get it back, even if I wanted to. For a moment, the darkness of the tunnel is a comfort, and the panic subsides as I imagine it endless. Maybe there won’t be a light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe I can stay forever in the comfort of the warmth and darkness. I close my eyes.

Light. I look out the window. Rolling green hills stretch listlessly towards the coast, and the azure waters of the Gem Sea sparkle in the sunlight. My breath catches in my throat. After so long living in Zuzu city, surrounded by neon and concrete, I had honestly forgotten how beautiful the countryside is. ‘I made the right choice. This feels right’. I imagine a future where I walk those hills every day, living off the bounty of the land. I smile as the bus driver shouts, “Next stop, Pelican town!”

I step off the bus, dragging my bag behind me. Even now it is a little shocking how easy it was to pack everything I own into one bag. A woman with red hair waves to me as I step off the bus, rushing to help me with my bag. “Hello! You must be David.” We place my bag down as the bus rolls away. “Yep, that’s me,” I say, doing a weird jazz hands thing. Yoba, why did I do that? She chuckles and shakes my hand with a firm grip. Her hand is calloused and muscular, which takes me a little by surprise. “I’m Robin, the local carpenter.” That explains the strong hands I guess. “Mayor Lewis sent me here to fetch you and show you the way to your new home. He’s there right now, tidying things up for your arrival.” I nod. I spoke to Lewis a few days ago. Apparently he’s an old friend of Grandpa’s, and was more than happy to help facilitate my move. “It is nice to meet you Robin.”

She leads me down a footpath, in the opposite direction from town apparently. It isn’t long before we get to my new home. It is… well, as Lewis diplomatically put it, rustic. Though perhaps it would be more apt to say in a state of disrepair. Both the land, which is covered in weeds and detritus, and the cabin, a run down single room which must be the hottest place in the valley for rats to fuck, look like they’ve seen better days. The enormity of the task ahead crashes down on me, and suddenly the anxiety is back. I don’t know how to run a farm; I’ve never even had a houseplant. Lewis is telling me about the various tools he brought for me, but I can barely hear him. I try to take slow, deliberate breaths, but the rhythm won’t come to me. Alone, many miles from home, basically broke, I realize that I have no idea what I am doing. It is all I can do to keep myself from crying.

Eventually, Lewis excuses himself, saying there is business in town that needs attending to, but not before extracting a promise from me to come have dinner at his place in a few days. I sit on the cabin stoop watching him go. Turning, I notice Robin giving me a look that even a fool such as myself can recognize as concern. “Are you alright David? You’re looking kinda out of it.” I put on what must be the world’s least reassuring smile and say “Yeah, I’m fine.” I pause a moment, wondering why I’m lying, before the dams burst. “It’s just, I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’m a dumb city boy who has never even been on a farm before, I have no practical knowledge or skill. Oh, and I spent nearly all of my money on this move. I have, maybe, five hundred bucks to my name. I don’t think I can do this, and I don’t see the path forward.” I cringe at that last statement. That is way to personal way too quickly. I don’t know this woman. I shouldn’t have opened up to her. I keep my eyes on the ground, holding back welling tears, not daring to look at her. She sits down next to me, and places a hand on my shoulder. “You’re wrong David. You can do this. And I know you’re probably thinking right now ‘how could this wise and beautiful twenty-nine-year-old woman possibly know that?’ To which I would reply I’m flattered that you think I’m twenty-nine, but also because the moment you got off the bus I could see how immediately enamored you are with the valley. The expression you had on your face was like a child opening their Winter Star presents. The road here passes some of the most beautiful land in the country, yet every day most people driving by barely see it. You saw it, and I think that means something. You belong here. You can learn to farm, you can develop useful skills, and you can build a life here. Stardew Valley called to you for a reason.” I sniffle, and collect myself, before asking “So what you are saying is that you are actually thirty?” Robin lets out a deep belly laugh and slaps me on the back. “So you’re a charmer, huh? No, I am not thirty, and no, I won’t elaborate further.” She stands up, dusting off her cargo pants as she rises. “I have the rest of the day free, let me help you get started. I know you don’t know anything about farming, but the parsnip seeds Lewis gave you need to go in the ground. Why don’t we clear a little patch by your porch?” She extends her hand. I take it. We get to work.

We work well into the evening, clearing the fields, cleaning the house. Robin even offers to expand the structure if I ever decide to make the investment. By the time she finally heads home, I’m feeling a lot more confident about my prospects here. I try to find something to watch on the little battery run box TV Lewis gifted me, but the only two channels getting picked up were weather and one of those weird TV psychics. Good news, the spirits are feeling favorable, I guess. I try to read for a bit, but when the sun sets I have the rude realization that the cabin does not have electricity. Making, then immediately forgetting, a mental note to buy some candles, I decide to call it an early night. Lying in bed, my mind drifts back to what Robin said earlier, that Stardew Valley called me for a reason. Besides the fact that the way she said it sounded suspiciously like something out of the Old Religion, it was a comforting notion. Pagan superstition or not, it felt nice to belong somewhere. 

That night I dreamt of a seed with limitless potential to grow, planted for the first time in nurturing soil.


	2. Daffodils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David picks some flowers then gives them away

I wake up at six o’clock sharp, ready to roll out of bed and head to work at the Zuzu City Joja Building. As I sit up and stretch, my nose is hit with the unfamiliar scent of pine wood. It takes me a moment to remember where I am, but when I do, the realization hits me like a bus. ‘I’m really doing this’. Getting up out of bed, I decide I am going to need some old timey farmer long-johns with the butt flap hanging open. If I’m here, then I might as well commit to the aesthetic. Stepping outside, I am greeted with the bright morning sunlight and the song of birds. The air smells crisp, refreshingly different from the tannery my old apartment was inexplicably built next to. ‘How did I ever manage to live there,’ I think, bringing my watering can over to the tilled dirt of my new parsnip patch. A squirrel in a nearby tree chitters, eating what seems to be a nut of some sort. “Morning neighbor!” I call out, waving. The squirrel doesn’t respond, but not in a rude way. I too have trouble speaking when my mouth is full of nut. Grinning at my own joke(?), I begin the walk into town.

They are so yellow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so vibrantly yellow. I am on my hands and knees, eye level with the brilliant yellow flowers I just found by the side of the road. The flowers have a fragrance that is barely perceptible, light and airy, spring incarnate. Not really thinking about why, I gather several of these flowers (daisies? daffodils? This is the kind of shit I’m gonna have to learn as the brand new farmer man in town) in a bunch and carry them with me. It catches me completely by surprise when I realize I am humming as I walk. Yoba, I cannot remember the last time I hummed. It feels good. All of this feels good. Yesterday’s panic feels like a distant memory. Stardew Valley called to me, I belong here.

By the time I reached the edge of town my legs are already bothering me. Which makes sense, up until this point I have lead a mostly sedentary lifestyle. Well, hopefully that will improve with time. I lean against a nearby fencepost to catch my breath, hoping I look cooler than I feel, when I see a young woman with blonde hair heading in my direction. She is beautiful. 

When I was in high school, I would frequently write sonnets to/about my various crushes. I wrote nearly a hundred poems, waxing eloquent about their beauty with grandiose metaphors and ornate language. Bearing that embarrassing fact in mind, please believe me when I say I have a lot of experience describe how someone looks. In this present moment, facing this person, all my vocabulary has left me, and I am left only able to account the facts.  
She is blonde.  
She is wearing a blue summer dress.  
She is carrying a camera.  
She looks annoyed oh god I’ve been staring too long I gotta say something shit shit shi

“Hey, I’m David I just moved here.” It doesn’t look like she even registers my name as she responds “You’re the new farmer boy who just moved in. Those clothes don’t look good on you.” I look down, and sure enough, I’m wearing baggy jeans and an old t-shirt I’ve gained too much weight for. So fair, but still ow. I wait for her to continue, and when it becomes clear she isn’t going too I ask “What’s your name?” “Haley,” she says, already turning away. “Well Haley, these are for you,” I say as I present her with the yellow flowers I picked earlier. “Really? For me?” She asks cautiously, not expecting her intentional incivility to be met with any kindness. “Well,” I explain “they weren’t for you originally. But I saw some pretty flowers, then I saw a pretty girl, and I thought that maybe I should give the pretty flowers to the pretty girl.” A hint of a smile almost seems to forms at the edges of her lips as she takes them. “Okay, uh, well, thanks for the flowers I guess. Bye.” As she walks away, I am shocked by my own confidence. Was that the coolest thing I’ve ever said? It might be. 

Unless it came off as creepy. Which it might have. I am a stranger who randomly gave her flowers, and she does look like the type who would have to put up with that kind of shit all the time. Oh fun here come the doubts again. Shaking my head, I proceed into the town, looking for more people to introduce myself to.


End file.
